


Our Little Secret

by Lidsworth



Series: Fingon the Valiant [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Fingon is a child and Maedhros is an adult, Heavy Angst, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Unrequited Love, doesn't get happier, maedhros/oc but not really there's no good relationship between them, this is a sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8654593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: Young Fingon witnesses an instance between his beloved cousin and a Lord of the court. Needless to say, the elfling is not at all happy at what he sees,  and resorts to unruly methods in order to ensure the safety of his eldest cousin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this does count as Russingon, but one-sided only, because Fingon is like…a kid. Anyway, dub/non-con, children being exposed to sexual situations. Read at your own risk. I really liked writing this! It’s based off of an AU that [Gultgull (this is her tumblr, check it out)](http://gultgull.tumblr.com/)created! I won’t get too into it yet, but Maedhros has his fair share of Lords in the court, but things eventually take a dark turn. The idea is all theirs and I’m absolutely in loves with it!  
> Also, my cousin talked my ear off while I was proofreading this, so I can assure you there are typos. Feel free to bring them to me! I live for your feedback, so give it to me! Also, I’m on [tumblr](http://inkstranger.tumblr.com/)

 

There was moaning coming from the other side of the door.

It was silent enough so that the busy servants rushing through the dark hallways with their stacks of clothing and scrolls could not hear it, but loud enough so that a young Fingon could. And with his short stature pressed against the entrance, slowly willing the wooden door open, the lewd sound only escalated as Findekano found himself stepping inside and closing himself into the room.

It did not take incredibly long for the child’s eyes to adjust to the darkness of the corridor, and after a few squints here and there, Fingon could make out the basic shapes of things. Not to mention, the slow, steady trickle of moonlight penetrating the looming shadows clarified his vision.

Immediately his eyes were drawn to the fiery hair of his eldest cousin, whose brilliant strands were set ablaze by pale light. It lay atop of the pillow, sprawled out like a bloody star. And it wasn’t the only thing, for Matimo himself lay on his back, bare arms and legs flailed out.

Exposed.

Fingon was taken aback, for the young elfling saw no reason for his cousin to be in such a strange position. And then his eyes trailed upwards to the man arched above (How had he not noticed him before?  Was he truly _that_ entranced by his cousin?) the eldest Feanorian. 

He was…moving oddly. Thrusting his hips into his the redhead with an exhilarating force. Matimo grunted as the man snaked his hands underneath his thighs, forcefully adjusting the tall elf so that he gained easier access into his body. In obvious discomfort, the redhead curled his fingers into the sheets as the man, who Fingon recognized as a Lord of the court, continued to slam into him, moaning loudly every so often. 

Fingon played with his fingers nervously, not at all liking what he was seeing. His cousin fisted his hands into the sheets, closed his eyes and moaned as if he were in pain. And by the looks of what the Lord was doing to him, the child would not be surprised if he _was_ in pain.

Suddenly, the pace increased, and below him, Matimo grew rigid. In a flurry of movements (was he trying to escape, Fingon wondered), he brought his hand to his mouth, efficiently muffling the scream that followed.

Though the action was short lived, for the lord yanked the hand away and smashed his mouth against Maedhros’s, nipping at the red head’s lips hard enough to bruise them.

Fingon covered his own mouth to silence his cry.

This man was _hurting_ his cousin! Badly! The elfling knew that he had to do something.

Get help maybe? Maybe he could ask his uncle or aunt to help him—No, it would take far too long. By the time he returned, the man would have gotten away with his violation of Maedhros.

So unfortunately, it looked like it was up to Fingon, who by no means was brave or valiant.

In fact he wavered in place, hands falling from his mouth and curling into tiny fist at his sides. At times his body jerked forward, though his feet remained glued to the floor. He could not move—he found himself frozen in place, staring in horror as the Lord manhandled his cousin until he was a panting mess.

His heart beat against his chest like a drum, and he could feel cool beads of sweat running down his forehead.  He thought of all that could go wrong if he went forward and chose to play hero.

So for about ten seconds, Fingon did not think. Fingon simply acted.

What happened next little Fingon could not recall, only that he had been running towards the bed at some point, and then jumping, and then there was screaming and kicking and biting and he was being shoved onto the mattress (was he being strangled?).

Eventually, the Lord had pulled himself out of Matimo, and after a snarl of harsh words directed towards both he and Findekano, he had dressed himself in his ruffled clothing and left.

When Fingon fully came back to himself, he realized that he sat atop of the soiled mattress quite unraveled and flustered, having just thrown himself at a grown elf like cannon ball. At that recollection, the elfling looked frantically around the room in search of his cousin, the elf he had risked so much to save.

Though he didn’t need to look far, for Matimo sat _right_ beside him on the bed, legs drawn tightly to his body, and head buried into his knees. He trembled slightly, and Fingon didn’t know whether or not it was from the cold air touching his moist skin, or if the severity of the situation had suddenly come tumbling down upon him.  

“Russandol, are you okay?” Asked the child quietly, twiddling his fingers together and staring upwards, with knitted brows, at his cousin who remained curled into himself.

When the redhead’s only response was a muffled sob, Fingon began to panic.

“I’ll…I’ll be right back. I’ll go get uncle Feanor! He’ll –”    
  
“No!” Matimo came to life at the mention of his father’s name, and practically roared at the mere suggestion of seeking his help. Fingon would have backed away had his cousin’s iron grip on the side of his arms not grounded him in place.

“You must not tell _anyone_ what you have seen, Findenako! Do you promise?” He was hysterical—green eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets, breathing heavily and body trembling harder than it had been earlier.

Fingon was so taken aback that he could not muster an answer. Maedhros took this as defiance.

“Fingon, answer me!” He shook the child violently, enough for Fingon’s eyes to water at the physical assault.

He asked too much of a child who had just seen his violation. Fingon was no fool no matter his age, what he just witnessed wasn’t right.

“I—I” The child stuttered, unsure of how to answer. He couldn’t keep this to himself! He had to tell someone! Not to mention, he didn’t want to be the only one who knew. It made him feel all icky and sick, like there was a rock in his stomach. He didn’t like that feeling.

He didn’t like keeping secrets. And he would have told his cousin that, had it not been for the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Fingon,” he said painfully steady, as if he had killed _all_ emotion and sense in order to muster up the strength to speak, “If you tell _anyone,_ I’ll never talk to you again. We won’t be friends and I’ll hate you forever.”  
The last bit was not spoken without great difficulty, and for a slight moment, Maedhros nearly lost all control he had. But he had managed through the entire thing, managed to look his young cousin in the eye as his words crushed Fingon’s soul.

The said elf could hardly speak, for the sobs had shaken his body to the core. He could not envision a life without Matimo being his friend! He would be all alone! But he really, _really_ wanted to tell! What if his uncle noticed that Matimo was…off? Would he ask Fingon if he knew anything? Would Fingon have to lie?  
  
Fingon hated lying. His father had told him that liars were bad, and that lying itself was a serious crime. But Fingon wasn’t a bad person and he didn’t want to commit a crime! It made him feel wrong and evil. It made him feel like crying harder than he already was.

But then…but then he didn’t want Matimo to hate him.

Fingon’s stomach felt tied all in knots, and the child could hardly breathe. He was so overwhelmed!

But after a moment of consideration, he made his decision.

He couldn’t live without Matimo in his life. Never. He loved him. Even if the feelings were unrequited, he _loved_ him more than anything. And Maedhros knew this, he knew it more than anything and had never acknowledged it.

Not until now at least. And that hurt Fingon more than anything.  

Closing his eyes and inhaling slowly, the child calmed himself until he was able to speak again.

“I won’t tell anyone.” His voice betrayed his expression of feigned confidence, though he managed a genuine smile when he saw the sense of relief visibly overcome his cousin, “It’s our secret.”

Matimo smiled sadly, “That’s right Fingon.  It’s our secret.”

And with that, he pulled the small elf into an embrace, placing a small kiss atop of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> done. I live for your feedback, so please tell me what you think! really nervous with this one, so your feedback is appreciated!


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